


gnawing with my teeth my bonds in sunder, I gained my freedom

by noodlefrog



Series: A Lifetime's Work, But Worth The Effort [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Vulva (Good Omens), Crack Treated Seriously, Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Don't copy to another site, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Feels, First Time, Improvised Sex Toys, Ineffable Spouses, Ineffable Wives | Female Aziraphale/Female Crowley (Good Omens), Least of all me, Light Angst, Monsterfucker, Non-Penetrative Sex, Non-Penetrative Sex Toys, Oral Sex, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Sex Toys, Smut, This fic was not sponsored by Kong brand chew toys, Vagina Dentata, Vaginal Fingering, and it has teeth, can I call this a pwp if it's over 10k?, can't stress that part enough, except she isn't really a monster, no one's cis here, she just has a bitey vagina, the author has really strong feelings about a queer Teeth remake, uh sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 08:14:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27467797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noodlefrog/pseuds/noodlefrog
Summary: For someone like Crowley, someone with the body she had, it seemed like madness to spend too much time wanting something she wouldn’t be able to have. Sex just… wasn’t something she could ever do. No matter how happy they were, she knew that there would always be a piece missing. She’d been designed that way, to be incomplete, and by now she had accepted it enough that she could ignore the way she wanted more.Crowley has a vagina dentata. Aziraphale is determined to find a way to have sex that's pleasurable for her. A chew toy gets involved. There are too many emotions in this crack fic about pussy teeth.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: A Lifetime's Work, But Worth The Effort [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026520
Comments: 75
Kudos: 189





	gnawing with my teeth my bonds in sunder, I gained my freedom

**Author's Note:**

> Ladies, gentlemen, gentlethems, and vagina-owners of all stripes… have you ever looked at your own vag and thought, _“wow, babe, you’re a little bit horrifying”_ ?  
> Have ever thought about the movie _Teeth_ and thought _“G-d, I wish that were me”_ ? Alternatively, have you ever looked at the movie _Teeth_ and thought, _“All these cis guys are fucking weak sauce. If I were in the movie_ Teeth, _someone I’m attracted to having pussy teeth wouldn’t even be a dealbreaker for me. We’d make it work.”_
> 
>  **Content Warning:** There’s some pretty heavy body negativity around sex and one’s genitals, including Crowley talking about her body like it is wrong, broken, dangerous, and generally not “built for sex.” Within the context of the fic, this is literally just because her vagina has very bitey teeth, but in writing it, it made me think of a lot of other reasons why some of us real people sometimes feel similarly. Pain, trauma, dysphoria, and body image issues can make us feel like strangers in our own bodies, or like our bodies are actively hostile towards us. Please take care of yourself reading this, because even though a lot of it is meant to be silly… there’s also some hurt.  
> Also, CW for mention of the vagina dentata biting off a few fingers ~~(in the past, and they grew back, so it’s fine)~~ and for an unenjoyable, painful masturbation scene.

The first time they made love had been a surprise. Crowley definitely hadn’t planned for it, and she thought Aziraphale might not have, either. There hadn’t been any signals the angel had even been _interested…_ or maybe there had. Maybe Crowley had just missed them. Or saw them, but rationalized away as something else. For someone like Crowley, someone with the body she had, it seemed like madness to spend too much time wanting something she wouldn’t be able to have. Sex just… wasn’t something she could ever do. No matter how happy they were, she knew that there would always be a piece missing. She’d been designed that way, to be incomplete, and by now she had accepted it enough that she could ignore the way she wanted more.

It had been two months since the world didn’t end, and everything was just… just fucking peachy. They’d won, they were _safe,_ they were _together._ That last part, the _being together_ part… that had been the biggest miracle Crowley had ever pulled off in her entire damned life. And yes, okay, _fine._ Maybe she was a little proud of how it had happened.

She always liked to treat Aziraphale right, and sure, by some measures, she’d been actively yet subtly courting the angel for at least the last century. Taking her out to nice restaurants, plying her with wines she liked. Making her feel special… because Aziraphale _was_ special, no matter how Heaven tried to make her feel, and Crowley was going to do everything in her power to make sure she knew that. She always kept her distance, hesitant to put on too much pressure, because Aziraphale had been—alright, they had _both_ been fucking terrified for so long.

There were hints now and then, over the years, that Aziraphale might want more. Crowley herself had probably been sending signals that could be seen from space. Before they stopped the end of the world, though, whenever Crowley thought about maybe taking another step closer, she’d remember that night fifty years ago, and she’d pump the fucking brakes. _“Too fast,”_ she’d been told, and it wasn’t a no… But it was a barrier Crowley was’t going to cross until Aziraphale said she was ready.

 _“We could go for a picnic,”_ Aziraphale had said, in that fragile, tender voice. _“Dine at the Ritz.”_

It wasn’t _“no.”_ It wasn’t _“never.”_ It was _“not yet,”_ it was _“someday”_ and _“please, wait for me,”_ and Someone help her, Crowley had. Hearing Aziraphale as good as say she wanted them to have a future had given Crowley the hope to hold out as long as it took for them to reach it.

So, two months ago, after they had helped avert the war and had fooled their former sides, Crowley had walked to the Ritz like she was floating six inches above the ground. She’d smiled like a lunatic the whole way through lunch and then had drunk herself into happy oblivion in the not-burned bookshop after dinner. The next morning, she’d woken up hungover on the sofa to the smell of Aziraphale’s horrible coffee. She’d been able to hear Aziraphale bustling around in the kitchenette, and so she’d miracled away her headache and padded in there to look for her.

 _“I thought I’d make us some egg sandwiches for breakfast,”_ Aziraphale had said, pouring instant coffee into a small, black thermos. There’d been another one sat next to it on the table, this one blue and patterned with little white clouds. Crowley remembered thinking that she would have bet any amount of money that the second one contained Earl Grey tea.

 _“Like egg sandwiches,”_ she’d said, stretching and popping her back. _“Why the thermoses? Are we going somewhere?”_

At that, Aziraphale had looked away. Sheepish, nervous. Excited.

_“I think I’d like to look at the world this morning, since it still exists today. And besides. It’s a beautiful day out there. Perfect weather for a picnic.”_

It had been at that precise moment that Crowley had noticed the hamper on the table, loaded down with egg sandwiches and fruit and bacon, and she once again felt like she was floating.

This whole time that they’d been friends, their interactions followed the same pattern. Crowley would reach out and Aziraphale would back away, and even though she didn’t move any closer, Crowley would keep her hand right where it was. Later, maybe, if she felt safe enough to, Aziraphale would reach back. That day, the pattern had been reversed. _Aziraphale_ had reached out first, and Crowley wasn’t about to keep her waiting. Her angel had been brave enough to take that first tentative step, and the least Crowley could do was be brave enough to take the next.

 _“I love you, you know,”_ Crowley had said that morning. No prompting, no warning. It just came out of her mouth after she’d finished swallowing another drink of that too-weak instant coffee.

 _“I didn’t know,”_ Aziraphale had told her, reaching out to hold her hand. _“But I am happy to know it now. I love you too, my dear.”_

So, yeah. Crowley was pretty proud of that little fucking victory. For two whole months after that, she’d felt on top of the (not destroyed) world. They spent all their days together now, either at the (not destroyed) bookshop or Crowley’s (recently un-Ligured) flat, and it was completely and utterly blissful. They even _kissed_ now. They _cuddled._ They _held hands when they walked._ Crowley had felt more content, more _peaceful_ than she thought she’d ever be capable of feeling.

Maybe that had been why the sudden possibility of adding sex into the routine had felt so much like getting rear-ended by a lorry. She’d gotten so comfortable cruising along like this that she hadn’t stopped to think that maybe Aziraphale might have physical interests, too.

They’d been cuddling in Aziraphale’s bed upstairs, watching a marathon of Austen adaptations on Crowley’s laptop. Well, to be specific, _Aziraphale_ had been watching the Austen films. Crowley had been watching Aziraphale complain about them. Then, they’d started kissing and Crowley had been so distracted by it that she hadn’t realized anything was different until Aziraphale’s bowtie was being pushed into her hand with a whispered, _“Set this on the bedside table, will you, love?”_

She’d obeyed like a sleepwalker, only to turn around and see Aziraphale shrugging out of her waistcoat and unbuttoning her shirt to reveal a white brassiere that had probably been manufactured during the second World War. The angel’s trousers followed soon after, and Crowley didn’t think about much of anything for at least forty minutes. At least, nothing too complicated. Thoughts like _“there are breasts on my face”_ and _“I’m so turned on I’m going to die”_ didn’t take up very much bandwidth. Then, after she lost the ability to think in complete sentences, she had a completely empty head in which phrases like _“angel thigh soft”_ and _“warm soft wet warm warm wet”_ could echo on repeat as many times as she needed.

After a lengthy semi-naked snog session, they ended up with Aziraphale on her back. Totally naked by that point, those gorgeously thick thighs of hers spread open. Her cunt was so… so fucking _pretty_ that Crowley almost literally cried. Puffy, fuzzy labia. A rosy clit that was big and round and looked perfectly designed to be sucked on. The laptop had long since muted itself and relocated to the bedside table out of self-preservation, but the flickering light from the screen made the soft, curly hair there look almost silver.

“What do you want?” Crowley asked, tossing her jacket onto the footboard.

It was the only item of her own clothing she had removed, not counting the sunglasses and shoes she’d taken off hours ago. In her excitement to finally, _finally_ get to bring her angel pleasure, it hadn’t yet occurred to her to be wary of what might happen next. Even still, some latent self-preservation instinct apparently had kicked in and made sure her jeans stayed all the way on.

“You,” Aziraphale told her simply. “Your fingers. Your mouth. Anything. Please.”

It was with yet more bliss that Crowley touched the angel’s naked body for the time. She’d never done this before, not with another person— _there had never been anyone she would have trusted to do this with_ —but apparently Aziraphale liked what she did with her tongue. Her clit was exactly as wonderfully, devastatingly suckable as she’d thought it would be, and Aziraphale responded with loudly vocal approval. The angel liked getting fingered, too. _Really_ liked it, practically sobbing for more. Crowley indulged her every time, sinking a fourth finger inside her soft, warm cunt with a feeling that was close to reverence—and only just the tiniest twinge of jealousy. She’d never get to know what this felt like… but it was alright. She didn’t need to, as Aziraphale was clearly enjoying it enough for the both of them.

Once Aziraphale came, the angel tugged Crowley up into her arms and settled her into a tight, slightly sweaty, _brilliant_ hug and kissed her soundly. All the slick and spit was still on Crowley’s face and it smeared itself all over Aziraphale’s mouth, but she didn’t seem to care at all.

“I love you,” her angel said, eyes wide and bright, and _oh._ Every time she said it, Crowley could have died happy.

“Love you too,” Crowley mumbled back, nuzzling her face beneath Aziraphale’s chin.

“That was remarkable,” Aziraphale sighed, her warm hands slipping up under the bottom of Crowley’s Henley and caressing her sides. “Would you let me do the same for you, my darling?”

All at once, Crowley’s calm, peaceful, happy bubble popped. It really shouldn’t have. She should have expected this would happen… but she hadn’t. She’d thought that, somehow, they’d never get to this point and so the awful reality of it would never have to intrude.

How could she even explain this? _“Sorry, angel. I’d love for you to fuck me, but I have this bloody great maw where a cunt ought to be, and it’s full of very sharp teeth that can bite straight through bone. Don’t ask me how I know that, also don’t ask me how I know our fingers can grow back.”_

“Ahhhh…” she said, the vowel dragging itself out like something horribly wounded looking for a secluded spot to die in. “I’m not… sure.”

Aziraphale looked surprised for a moment, then frowned. “I’m sorry, my dear. I shouldn’t have assumed that sex was something you wanted.” Her expression darkened even further, sliding into something colored with regret and fear. “Oh, Crowley. Crowley, my love. I’m so very sorry.”

Crowley cut her off before this could escalate into a proper tragic misunderstanding. “No, no. It’s fine. I’m—sex is great. Love it, actually. Ah. The bit of it I’ve had now, at least.”

Relief washed over the angel’s features. “Thank… Thank Someone for that. I never want to push you into anything that makes you uncomfortable.” She kissed Crowley’s forehead. “If you don’t want me to touch you, right now or—or ever, that’s perfectly alright with me.”

“It… it isn’t that either. It’s. I _want,_ I just…” Crowley let out a frustrated sound and closed her eyes. She _did_ want, very much, to the point that she was probably in danger of absolutely ruining the knickers she had on right now. She’d wanted this for a very, very long time. But how could Crowley ask for what she wanted? Furthermore, how could she ever possibly get it? Gentle touching, being lovingly taken apart by the angel’s hands… her body wasn’t built for that. It wasn’t built to be touched at all.

Aziraphale was patient, though, and held her through her struggle to figure out how to ask for this. To figure out how to explain. Her hands were grounding, fingers rubbing slow circles into the bare skin beneath Crowley’s shirt on her lower back.

Finally, Crowley just blurted it out. Well, part of “it,” anyway.

“I… don’t know how,” she confessed. The angel blinked in surprise, which Crowley couldn’t blame her for. It was a silly thing to be told by a six-thousand-year-old demon, after all.

The sad part of it was that, even though she had more imagination than any other demon in her former workplace, Crowley still hadn’t figured out how sex was supposed to work for her. She’d had six thousand years to think about it, and yet somehow… no answers. Not even to that basic of a question.

It wasn’t for lack of trying, of course. She had an active, maybe even higher-than-average sex drive (though she also didn’t know what “average” meant anymore for beings like herself and Aziraphale), and was a firm believer in the idea that a good wank was one of the few true panaceas of the world. If something couldn’t be solved by a nap, some strong and/or tasty alcohol, or by rubbing one out… Well, could it really be solved?

But that was… by herself. That was just wanking. That was making sure she was laying in the right way, making sure that nothing important was in biting range, and then rubbing her clit until she came. It was quick, it was businesslike. Taking care of an urge. Relieving stress. She was very efficient at it after all this time. When it came to sex—real sex, sex with a partner—she was totally out of her depth.

She didn’t… didn’t even know what she was supposed to imagine while she touched herself. Mostly, she tried to focus on the physical side of it. It was possible, she knew, for her to get off by imagining sex scenes where she was different. Where she had a functional fucking body. But whenever she tried to imagine it as-is, she drew a blank. The only way to get off while thinking of those kinds of fantasies, in her experience, was to ignore her genitals in them altogether. Focus on other things, like what it might feel to have someone’s—okay, fine, _Aziraphale’s_ —body laying over her own. Think about sensations elsewhere, like her nipples and her scalp, and try to extrapolate. Try to imagine that the hands touching her were soft and plump and well-manicured instead of thin and hard with nails chewed almost down to the quick.

“I’m not messing around, I legitimately just… do not know how to have sex. With another person. With you. I don’t even know how it would physically _work.”_

Aziraphale open and shut her mouth, then said, “If you knew, do you think… that you’d like to try? Would it be something you’d like to figure out?”

Crowley could feel her ears and neck _burning._ It was probably as much shame as it was arousal, honestly. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d… I’d like that.”

“Let’s start simply, then. Have you ever attempted masturbation?” The voice was so prim, so polite, so _Aziraphale_ that Crowley couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“Yes, angel. I’ve attempted it. Everything _works_ downstairs, I just…” She sighed, narrowing her eyes at her own clothed groin like it was a plant she could intimidate. “I just don’t know _how_ it works. Or, I guess, what “working” would even look like for me. Us. I dunno.”

“Is it just… a lack of information? Because I have a few anatomical texts downstairs, and—oh! You’ve brought your computer with you, yes! I’ve been informed that there is ample information on human sexuality catalogued on the Internet. I’d love to do the research with you.”

The delight on Aziraphale’s face was so precious that Crowley almost couldn’t bring herself to deny her this bloody sex research session she was trying to plan. Almost.

“S’not going to be in any of your books. Maybe on the Internet. Well, it’s _definitely_ on the Internet, but all of it’s wrong. It’s not… _human_ sexuality that’s the problem.” Crowley looked at Aziraphale for a long moment before deciding, fuck it. Aziraphale had made the first move, so now it was her turn to be brave enough to explain why she could probably never really meet her in the middle.

She made herself keep talking. “It’s demonic sexuality. Well. The anatomy, specifically. I have…” She ran a hand through the spiky front of her short-cropped hair. “Non-standard equipment. I like—love touching you, don’t get me wrong, but I… Don’t know if… if sex is really in the cards for me. Sorry.”

“Well, you said you pleasure yourself.” Aziraphale stroked the buzzed hairs on the back of Crowley’s neck, smiling with obvious, beautiful, _futile_ determination clear in her eyes. She obviously didn’t get it yet. “If you show me how you like to be touched, I’m sure I can learn to work with any equipment, as you called it, that I’m given.”

Crowley grimaced. “Not this. It’s… not something anyone would want to touch.”

“I’d ask you to let me be the judge of what I want to touch and what I don’t,” Aziraphale sniffed.

She was fighting down intense waves of humiliation already, but that tipped Crowley over all the way into frustration. “This isn’t some… some insecurity. Some body image issue. I don’t. I don’t think I’ve got a weird looking cunt or something. It is actually fucking dangerous. And I’m not about to injure you because I want to shag.” As her rant reached its conclusion, Crowley started to deflate. “It’s… probably best if I just duck into the en suite and take care of things on my own.”

“If you’d want that, I of course wouldn’t keep you. But if partnered sex is a thing you want to try, I want to give it a try too. I’m sure that between the two of us, we can think of a solution.”

“Did you miss the part where I said it was dangerous?”

“So is a flaming sword, but I learned how to handle one of those safely, didn’t I?” Aziraphale looked at her, then squinted. “I can tell by looking at your face that you were about to make a quip about me _losing your vagina.”_ Crowley, who absolutely _had_ been about to make the lost vagina joke, clamped her mouth shut around what had been about to be a very loud, distracting laugh. “It’s not the time, my dear. I’m being serious. No matter what anatomy you have, I want to learn how to make it feel good.”

Oh, well that just made her feel like a squirmy puddle of confused emotions and arousal and love. If she let herself dwell in this sappy, tender place, Crowley knew that she’d probably literally catch on fire, so she opted to change the topic to more pleasurable topics.

If Aziraphale was serious about being shown how Crowley gets off, that… might work. Assuming they took precautions, of course. And if Crowley showed her one of the more indirect, hands-out-of-biting-range methods she knew… Yeah. _Yeah._ Maybe this could work. Maybe she could know what it was like to have Aziraphale get her off, even if she couldn’t, y’know. Actually be touched by her.

“I _think_ I might know a way to do it safely, but.” Crowley swallowed. “But just let me keep my jeans on, alright?”

“Of course.” Fuck, but she looked so _pleased._ Wiggling where she lay on the mattress, naked and happy. Crowley could have crawled out of her own skin. “Wear as many or as few clothes as you would like, love.”

Exhaling sharply, Crowley flicked open the button of her jeans and… waited. Waited a bit more. Finally made herself get over it and shoved them down partway down her thighs, just far enough down to expose her knickers. Thankfully, she was wearing a very tight pair of jeans. That should help… keep it _contained._

“You’re so beautiful, my dearest,” Aziraphale murmured, stroking Crowley’s hipbone with a thumb. Keyed up as she was, Crowley barely resisted the urge to buck her hips up into the touch.

“Yeah, well,” she grumbled. “You’re only seeing the socially acceptable bits. If we’re doing this, uh. Like this. That’s all you’ll see. Promise I’ll show you, um. All of me, later. But right now, it’s… very agitated, and I think it’s best if I keep my legs together.”

Aziraphale’s eyes were very wide now. “Right, yes. Of course. Anything you like.” She pressed a warm, open-mouthed kiss to the side of Crowley’s face. “What do I do?”

Crowley snapped her fingers and a hefty black vibrator appeared in her other hand, teleported there from her flat. It was one of those wand ones with the big blunt head that probably ought to have been plugged into a wall, but it didn’t dare disappoint the demon who bought it by requiring something as trivial as a power source.

“This. It’s got enough oomf that I can, uh. Feel it indirectly. Probably wouldn’t want to feel it _too_ directly, that probably wouldn’t feel too nice. But if you… if you wanted to. Right here, on the front. That would probably be enough, even with my legs shut.”

“Would that be pleasurable for you?”

“Yeah, my clit will get most of it, even diffused. Like I said, it’s strong.”

“Is there anything else you’d like me to do?”

Crowley hesitated, then realized that if Aziraphale hadn’t run off screaming into the night with the mention of her deadly demonic genitals, she probably wouldn’t be put off by a request for cuddles.

“Can I put my head in your lap?” She asked, and when Aziraphale rearranged herself to sit against the headboard, Crowley followed her. The angel’s mons was pleasantly damp against the short hairs on the back of Crowley’s neck, and another shiver of arousal worked its way through her. She’d eaten Aziraphale out. Aziraphale was about to masturbate her. Aziraphale hadn’t left, and hadn’t been bitten by Crowley’s cunt fangs, and she still wanted to touch her. How was _any_ of this real?

“Are you comfortable?”

“Mmm.”

“Is there…” Aziraphale said, taking the vibrator in hand, then cleared her throat. “I understand that you don’t want my hands on you below the belt, so to speak, but… Are there other places on your body you might like to be touched? Your neck, your breasts…? It’s just that I want to touch you so awfully, my love.”

Crowley nodded, quick and jerky. She shouldn’t be nervous, shouldn’t be choked up. That was entirely too many emotions to experience at once, especially when she was this turned on.

“Play with my nipples?” She asked, and Aziraphale grinned. Crowley wriggled out of her Henley, tossed it in the general direction of the foot of the bed so it could join her jacket. As she settled back into Aziraphale’s lap, baring her thin chest and her small breasts, she added, “Don’t be afraid to really pinch them. They can take it.”

“Duly noted,” Aziraphale said, that grin turning wry as one of those warm, soft hands began idling its way across Crowley’s sternum. She turned her attention towards the vibrator. “Now, I just need to find the switch and—oh! This has quite the kick.”

Crowley laughed, wriggling deeper into Aziraphale’s lap as the vibrator roared to life in the angel’s hands. “You’ve seen my car, so you know my style. If it’s fast, loud, expensive, and comes in black, I probably own it.”

Aziraphale pinched one of her nipples for that, not terribly hard but hard enough to make her squirm. “Ridiculous creature,” she said, soothing away the mild sting with a softly circling thumb. “I do love you so.”

Feeling movement within her cunt, Crowley pressed her thighs even tighter together, crossing her ankles and rolling her hips. “I love you too, I love you, but please— _Fuck!”_

At just that moment, Aziraphale touched the heavy head of the vibrator to the front of her pelvis, sending strong waves of power through her body. There wasn’t much between her clit and the raw, all-consuming sensation. Just the bit of thin cotton fabric and her lips to muffle the vibrations—a small mercy, but she found herself seizing up all the same. _Especially_ when Aziraphale’s hand really started to work her over, stroking and twisting and tugging at her nipples one at a time with precise, devastating movements. Crowley clenched her jaw—the one in her head, thank you, though the jaws in her cunt were also squeezing and biting down on nothing—and _writhed._

“Oh, my darling,” Aziraphale cooed, pinching just the slightest bit harder. “My darling, you are so beautiful like this.”

The teeth in her cunt snapped like a snared fox. She could guarantee that these knickers would be unsalvageable at this point, the fabric in the crotch mangled and shredded, but her legs were shoved so tightly together by her jeans that nothing could properly… emerge.

It didn’t take long. It never did, like this, and _this_ time she had Aziraphale’s hands on her, so she was doomed for the start. Crowley came quickly, and she came hard. Those were two reasons why she normally liked that particular toy, but as she came down, breathing like she just almost died, she noted with a twinge of regret that the speed of it left her unable to fully savor the fact that it was _Aziraphale_ bringing her off this time.

“Off,” she panted, pushing ineffectively at the toy still vibrating against her increasingly oversensitive clit. Aziraphale switched it off and set it to the side, and Crowley just lay there for a moment, unable to do more than _feel._

“Did you like that, my dear?” Aziraphale asked her, and when she nodded in response, the angel repositioned herself so that they could lie down on the bed side-by-side. “I’m glad. I liked it too, and I liked… all of this. Everything.”

Crowley hummed in agreement, feeling her cunt still weakly twitching from the aftershocks as she settled into the afterglow. The jaws seemed to be relaxing, too, retreating back inside to rest. “Me too,” she managed, curling herself against Aziraphale’s body.

“There are so many things I’d like to try, if you’re interested,” Aziraphale said, wrapping her arms around Crowley’s skinny shoulders and pinning her wonderfully between her very soft breasts and her very strong biceps. Crowley should have been in Heaven—a figure of speech, of course—but she felt a terrible sinking in the pit of her stomach instead.

“Um, right,” she said, nodding hard. “I… I’m willing to try anything you want me to, uh. Do to you. But this is the part where I guess I’ve got to say that I… can’t. That’s it. What we just did, that’s… the only thing I’m able to do.”

Aziraphale blinked at her, then recovered from her surprise. “That’s fine, too. Of course, it is. If that’s the only kind of sex you enjoy, then that will be all we shall do. I enjoyed it, and I won’t push you to do anything else.”

Crowley groaned and closed her eyes. Her face was getting hot again, hot enough Aziraphale could probably feel it even with Crowley’s face tucked against her shoulder. “It’s not… a matter of not wanting anything else. I just. This is what I need to do. This is the only way I can think of where it’s safe. We can probably come up with some different positions, different toys, whatever, but I can’t… let you touch me. Not with your hands, not with your mouth. It has to be this way.”

“Oh, Crowley…”

She shook her head and pushed herself upright. “Should… should probably explain myself, right? It’s a bit less bitey right now, should be safe enough for a demonstration. But I… I need to show you. You deserve to know.”

Crowley crawled over to the edge of the bed, aware that she’d probably need to lie down to get her tight jeans all the way off. She felt Aziraphale’s eyes on her back as she wriggled out of them, got to her feet and pulled them all the way down. As she’d expected, her knickers were utterly wrecked. There was a huge chunk bitten out of the crotch, the edges frayed and torn. It had left a few black threads stuck to her labia, and probably all over the inside of her cunt, too, so Crowley banished the whole mess at once with a wave of her hand. She opted not to banish the frankly startling amount of wetness there. Since it had been Aziraphale who was responsible for that, and if she was—if she was already going to be shown the teeth, the angel should at least get to see the evidence of how good of a job she’d done getting Crowley off, too.

Aziraphale was still sitting there, so patient and calm, by the time Crowley turned around to face her again. She was naked now, and she’d—she hadn’t been naked around anyone, ever. Not since she crawled out of that pit of boiling sulfur and found herself changed. The first thing she’d done after the screaming stopped was clothe herself, and after six thousand years, here she was naked again. In front of the person she loved most. About to show the angel the most wretched, demonic parts of herself. No biggie.

“Right. So, ah,” Crowley said, gesturing down at her body. “The humans call it _vagina dentata,_ which. Y’know what “vagina” means. Obviously. And the second part is… Well.”

“Toothed?” Aziraphale suggested mildly.

“Yep,” Crowley confirmed, rocking on the balls of her feet. “Good job. Gold star for… for knowing what words mean.”

The angel didn’t look particularly disturbed yet, which was probably to be expected. It was almost normal looking from the front, just so long as Crowley kept her knees shut.

She looked anywhere besides at Aziraphale as she sat back down on the bed, facing her. Crowley slowly spread her legs, feeling more like a circus curiosity than she ever had before… even counting the time she’d had to pose as a circus curiosity for work. She’d at least had clothes on that time, even if everything from the collarbones up had been full snake.

 _“Oh!”_ Aziraphale breathed, leaning forward ever so slightly. Still keeping her distance. “Oh, I see what you mean.”

“Yep.”

“You have such a beautiful Effort. The little teeth are absolutely darling,” the angel said, and Crowley absolutely could not take hearing things like that. Fuck. “I take it that they can… move?”

“That they can. They’ll chew on absolutely anything they can get ahold of, so don’t get any ideas.”

Crowley looked back at the angel just as she tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, and Crowley had to fight the urge to clamp her legs back shut again. The open curiosity Aziraphale was showing her was almost worse than if it had been fear or disgust. Almost. At least she didn’t have those fucking glasses on right now.

“How do they work? Is the biting a response to penetration of any kind, or is it tied to arousal? Is there a depth of penetration that is safe for you, or they operate on proximity?”

The real answers to those questions were, in order, “I don’t fucking know,” “Both,” “No,” and “Sort of,” but Crowley was too stressed out to formulate even simple statements like those.

There were… jaws. Muscle and bone that took up most of the space inside whatever approximated a canal in there. It didn’t take up _all_ the space. There was sometimes a little bit of room right at the entrance, as when everything was relaxed down there the teeth rested about an inch inside her cunt. There was also, she had discovered, some space at the back. Both of those areas were completely unsafe to touch and she… she also hadn’t had the best of experiences with those being touched, so she didn’t know if penetration of any depth would be worth it.

It was her own fault, really. Once, when she’d been frustrated and angry, she’d decided to try it. Tried to force a toy in past the teeth and fuck herself. Well, even after she got past the teeth, the bulk of the muscle that made up the jaws had made it an incredibly tight fit… but it had been _possible_ to fit something all the way inside. Not really _pleasurable,_ but possible. The toy she’d picked had been so hard, cast from metal. Something she hoped her cunt wouldn’t be able to destroy. It felt almost good when she’d stuck just the tip in, like her cunt _liked_ the feeling of biting it, but then she’d pushed it further and further and it—it just felt so bad, being held open like that by something so inflexible. And then the fucking thing had gotten stuck. And she’d gotten panicked because it had gotten stuck, and ripped it out and banished it and curled up in a ball under her blankets in her bed and cried.

That was… a lot to unload on a person all at once, so Crowley decided to focus on just the first question. About how the thing worked.

“Have you ever seen the movie _Alien?_ No, sorry. Who am I kidding? Of course you haven’t, it was made after they stopped calling them _talkies.”_ Crowley scrubbed a hand across her face. This was going terribly. “Anyway. Those H. R. Giger fuckers have these little mouths inside their normal mouths, and it just kind of slides out and… you know.” She made a reaching, biting gesture with her hand.

Aziraphale seemed to think about it for a moment, then brightened and said, “Oh! Like a moray eel? They have a second set of pharyngeal jaws that sounds quite a bit like what you’re describing.”

“Remarkable. How are you a real person? You know horrible eel facts, but you thought a dolphin was a kind of fish.” She grimaced. The eel comparison was unfortunate, but probably pretty accurate, even if Crowley didn’t like the thought of comparing her bits to anything that resembled Dagon. “Anyway. _That’s_ why I need you to keep your hands and all other objects to yourself, angel. If they think anything sexy is happening, they _will_ try to come out and grab a bite.”

“How far can they reach?”

“Not far, just a few inches. But still, keep your distance.” Crowley sighed. “Major cockblock, I know.”

“Speaking of,” Aziraphale said. “I realize this is a terribly personal question, but have you tried switching your Effort?”

Crowley nodded, staring off into the middle distance. “Yep. The teeth are attached, no matter what I have. It’s a package deal. If I try to banish them, I banish everything. If I give myself a cock, they manifest as these nasty little sharp spikes all around the outside. Makes wearing trousers a regular pain in the arse, I’ll tell you. Stabbed myself in the leg more than once.”

“Noted,” Aziraphale said, finally looking up at Crowley’s face. She was smiling. “So, to clarify. Clitoral stimulation is fine, but anything penetrative is off-limits. Yes?”

“Yes. That’s… that’s the gist.”

“You made it sound so terribly dire earlier.” The angel laughed, relieved and warm. “Like you couldn’t have sex at all without your quim trying to eat me.”

“It will,” Crowley groused. “And those things can break bone. There’s still a lot that we can’t ever do.”

“And a lot that we _could._ Only if you wanted, of course, but my dear. This isn’t a… a limitation. Tell me. If you could have sex in any way at all, what would you want to do?”

Crowley didn’t even have to think about it. “I’d want it to be you touching me. I’d want your hands, or your mouth. And I’d want to know you weren’t about to get bitten.”

Aziraphale hummed. “I’m sure it’s possible. We can find a way to make it work. We _can_ do this, I promise you that, my love.”

The angel opened her arms and Crowley all but fell into them. She felt relieved to no longer be on display, and also relieved to not have to hide this part of herself anymore. Mostly, she felt relieved that Aziraphale had seen her—seen _all_ of her—and hadn’t seemed to be frightened. That she wanted to do more again in the future.

“You seem tired,” Aziraphale murmured, guiding them both underneath the duvet. “Would you like to have a lie down? Perhaps a nap?”

Crowley nodded and, just because she _could_ now, she kissed her angel right on the lips. Aziraphale held her for a few long, peaceful minutes, and Crowley was almost in a doze by the time she spoke up again. Apparently, Aziraphale’s mind was still busy.

“Do you have… sensation in your lower jaws? Does touching them feel pleasurable? How much control do you have over them?”

“Uh…” she began, opening her eyes one at a time. “Don’t really control them. Just kind of… snap open and closed on their own whenever I’m turned on. Like… what the fuck do the humans call it?”

“A reflex?”

“Yeah. That. If they bite onto something, I have to wait for them to relax to get it back, which brings me to m’second point,” Crowley said, poking Aziraphale right in her soft, wonderfully squishy tummy. _“Technically,_ yes. I do have feeling in them. Sexual feeling… maybe? It feels good when they grip onto something. But this is exactly why you cannot touch them. Don’t want you losing a hand.”

Aziraphale chuckled against her and kissed the top of her head. “Alright, love. I might have an idea, so I’ll do some research on my own and let you know later what I’ve found. For now, I just want to enjoy cuddling the beautiful demon in my bed.”

Crowley squirmed. “Shut up,” she mumbled. “Can’t sleep on you if you keep saying things to me.”

Her angel held her tight as she drifted off. The last thing Crowley heard before she fell asleep was Aziraphale’s voice in her ear, low and sweet and earnest. “You really do have the most beautiful body, dearheart. I love it toe to tip, and I’m so glad you let me see you.”

By then, Crowley was so tired that all she could do was smile.  


* * *

Aziraphale’s research took the rest of the week. During that time, things seemed to return to their two-month-old version of normal. They kissed and cuddled and held hands, but the topic of sex was not broached again. Crowley might have wondered if she’d dreamed their whole first time if it hadn’t been for the way she would find Aziraphale in the back room of the bookshop, glasses down at the end of her nose as she typed with both index fingers on the keyboard of her ancient computer. Every time, the angel would duck her head and grin like she’d been caught doing something naughty. To preserve her own sanity, Crowley never looked at the screen to see what, exactly, Aziraphale was researching. It wouldn’t do to get her hopes up.

Then, just when she’d almost forgotten about the whole thing, Aziraphale surprised her again.

“I went to the shops earlier,” she began, oh so innocently, as they entered Crowley’s flat after dinner.

“That so?” Crowley asked, taking the angel’s coat.

Aziraphale reached into her horrible, threadbare carpet purse and retrieved an opaque black poly bag. There was no marking on it from what Crowley could see, but it had something that seemed a bit heavy inside it. The angel held the bag out and open for Crowley to reach inside, smiling in that shy yet eager way that made Crowley’s eyes go a bit wide.

“What kind of shopping?” She asked, even though she was pretty sure she already knew.

“Toy shopping,” Aziraphale answered, cagey, and _oh,_ yes. That was definitely flirting. “I think I’ve found something that might work for our purposes.”

Feeling a bit like she was reaching into one of those bins of peeled grapes at a haunted house that they tried to tell people were loose eyeballs, Crowley reached inside the bag and pulled out… something.

Crowley looked down at the object in her hand, struggling to process what she was seeing. It was made out of some kind of industrial-looking black rubber, sleek and ominous, giving it the appearance of a device that belonged in some sex club where people wore zippered hoods over their faces. The shape of it was alarming, too—three bumps of increasing girth, the biggest one wider than her fucking fist. It made her palms sweat a bit, thinking about how that might fit inside a person’s body. Wouldn’t it hurt?

She ran a thumb over the raised letters at the bottom of the… was this a plug?

“Is this…” Crowley began, then cleared her throat and tried again. “Is this supposed to go in me?”

Aziraphale made some kind of complicated gesture with her hands that wasn’t _at all_ reassuring. “Well, that wouldn’t be the terminology I would use, but… well. Actually, I suppose it _could,_ if you wanted to, or if that were what was more comfortable to you. But I hadn’t gotten it with penetration in mind. Or, I suppose, definitely not _deep_ penetration. More… surface level? If anything.”

 _What the_ fuck _was that supposed to mean?_

“Angel,” she said, tilting the thing on its end and looking through the hole that ran all the way through it. It seemed hollow, so her other guess—that it was some kind of vibrator—seemed to be a miss. “What the Heaven is this thing? Is it even a sex toy?”

At that, Aziraphale seemed to get a bit defensive. “It could be! We don’t have to be… be beholden to other people’s definitions anymore! You were the one who taught me that. So, if… if we wanted it to be, it could be. It’s perfectly safe, and durable. It _is_ a toy, so if we wanted to incorporate it into intercourse, I believe that would make it a sex toy, yes.”

Crowley was already typing into her phone before Aziraphale could finish her nervous rambling, inputting the brand name—Kong—emblazoned on what she assumed was the base. She glanced at the results and then looked back up at the angel, flabbergasted.

“This is a dog toy,” she said, not quite believing it… even after looking at a screen full of happy canines chewing on what she had been convinced was some sort of hardcore dildo.

“No,” Aziraphale said, her voice firm. “It isn’t. It’s _our_ toy, if you’d like it to be. Neither of us owns any dogs, and regardless of its intended purpose, I purchased it and so the manufacturers no longer have any say over how it gets used.” She sighed, then pushed her hands down her thighs to flatten the imaginary wrinkles in her trousers. “Though it was rated for use by super chewers.”

 _“Super chewers?”_ Crowley repeated, her voice ratcheting higher into a register that only dogs and angels could hear. Not that there were any bloody dogs around to hear it, even though Aziraphale was apparently buying fucking _dog toys_ to incorporate into their entirely dog free sex life.

“There were other sizes, but I thought… well, you told me you’re able to put a lot of force behind your bites. This seemed wise to begin with, as I’d hate for you to accidentally bite _through_ something.”

“Is this what you meant by _‘We’ll find a way to make it work?’”_ She asked, unable to keep the anger from coloring her tone. “Can’t fuck me any other way, so you just pop down to the nearest pet shop and look for something to fuck me with that maybe my _cunt teeth can’t chew through?”_

The angel’s mouth dropped open, then she rushed forward to put her hands on Crowley’s shoulders. Crowley almost wanted to shrug them off, but she resisted the urge. She was angry, but she did still want to be touched… did still want to be thought of as _something that was touchable._

“My dear,” Aziraphale said, her voice soft. “That’s not what I was trying to do here at all. I’m not interested in… in pushing past your defenses, I suppose you could call it.”

“Shoving something in past the teeth and going at it?” Crowley supplied, her voice flat.

Aziraphale cringed. “No. That’s not what I wanted to do at all. But it seemed to me that… Well. Your teeth are a part of your Effort, and there are sensations that they seem to be particularly drawn to.”

“Biting things. They bite things, whether I want them to or not.”

“And the fact that it is involuntary made me wonder if that motion was a part of your sexual response cycle. Other types of Effort move involuntarily, so why not yours?” Aziraphale gestured at the toy. “And if that part of your anatomy bites down when you are aroused… I thought, perhaps, it might feel nice for it to have something to bite into.”

She realized she was squeezing onto the toy so tightly her knuckles had gone white. Fuck, but this thing really did seem sturdy. The search on her phone had shown some very big dogs biting into these things with very big teeth, and it made her wonder… A hot lick of shame rose up from her belly even as she noticed how (begrudgingly) impressed she was with her angel’s determination.

Against her better judgement, she looked back down at her search results, eyes drawn to a picture of a human shoving peanut butter into one of these things with a plastic knife. Apparently, that was what the hole through the center was for.

“As long as you don’t try to bribe my snatch with peanut butter,” she sighed, “I’m willing to give it a try.”

“Of course not, don’t be silly. You don’t have any taste buds there, so…” Aziraphale trailed off, thoughtful. “Actually, _do_ you? Because…”

Crowley shook her head. “No. Absolutely no peanut butter.”

Aziraphale nodded, her expression so earnest and serious that Crowley almost had to laugh at the surreal quality of this moment. “No peanut butter,” she promised.

“So, uh. When did you want to… see about this?” Crowley asked, awkwardly tilting the dog toy—no, the _sex_ toy—in her hand.

“Whenever you’d like, love.”

For a long moment, Crowley hesitated. If this didn’t work, this would be… humiliating. Discouraging. She was sure Aziraphale would keep trying to find some solution to their problem, and maybe the next one would be less embarrassing, but Crowley wasn’t sure how much experimentation she’d be able to handle. She might just… give up. Accept that the vast majority of sexual experience was just beyond her capabilities and be grateful she had a partner who could sometimes rub one out for her with her legs shut. Be grateful that she had at least had a clit that worked like it was supposed to instead of—of some kind of crotch nipple that shot out Hellfire, or something.

But the idea of waiting to find out for sure, seeing that fucking ridiculous Kong toy sitting up on a shelf or something for weeks and weeks, _mocking her…_ It was more than she could bear.

“Now?” She asked, while she still had the courage.

“Alright, then. Sure— _Crowley!”_

But Crowley was already on her way to the bedroom, stripping off clothing as she went. She could hear Aziraphale following close behind her, laughing. The angel caught up with her soon after Crowley had launched herself, naked, into her bed. Aziraphale had more layers to start with, so she still had things on to remove, but she straddled Crowley’s hips—letting her keep her thighs together, for which Crowley was grateful—and leaned down to kiss her deeply.

“I still have…” Crowley mumbled against the angel’s lips, holding onto Aziraphale’s free-hanging braces for dear life, “… this fucking dog toy in my hand.”

“That’s alright.” Aziraphale took the ridiculous thing away from her, so very slowly, and set it beside them on the bed. “I had to miracle my shoes off.”

“Had to do a miracle to keep from killing myself tripping over my trousers.”

The angel kissed the tip of Crowley’s nose. “We are very functional people, you and I.”

“S’why we work so well together,” Crowley insisted very seriously. “Cosmic damage control for the rest of everyone else, inflicting us on one another.”

“How would you like to try this, love?” Aziraphale asked, rubbing circles into Crowley’s hip.

Crowley made a face. “Probably best to get that thing shoved in the way first, let me try to bite down on it, and then we can get on with it.”

“Shoved in the way?” Aziraphale repeated.

“Yeah, I thought…” She cleared her throat. “I thought that was what it was for. Keeping the teeth busy so it doesn’t bite you when you, y’know. Touch me. I thought it was supposed to be like a gag or something, or a muzzle.”

“Crowley, I didn’t get this to _muzzle you,”_ Aziraphale scolded, then her voice softened. “You have a part of your body that likes to bite, that feels good when it can bear down on something. I don’t want to ignore any part of your body, or… or try to keep it occupied and distracted while I go somewhere else. I want to make love to your whole body, your whole Effort. Clitoris, labia, teeth, jaws, all of you. Different parts register different sensations as pleasurable, so I… I got this so that every part of your Effort can experience pleasure. Whatever form that pleasure takes.”

Crowley was stunned. “… You did?”

“Alright, _yes._ Part of my thinking was that if I got you something to bite down on, you’d be less worried about biting _me_ and could relax more. But I’m not… frightened of you. Of any part of you. If you did happen to bite me, it wouldn’t be a problem. I _can_ heal myself, you know.”

“You’re remarkably blasé about the fact my cunt is weaponized,” she grumbled, instead of admitting how deep inside her those words had landed.

“Because I love you, you silly twit,” Aziraphale said, mooshing Crowley’s face with both hands. “You could have any body, any Effort, _no_ Effort, _no_ body. It would not matter to me a whit. I’d love you all the same, and I’d find you beautiful, and—if you wanted me—I’d figure out how to make love to you.”

“Oh,” Crowley said, and because words were hard and she wasn’t about to start crying right now, added, “Same.”

Aziraphale caressed her cheek. “Do you trust that I’m telling you the truth, love?”

Amazingly enough, Crowley… did. She nodded. Swallowed. Inched her thighs apart ever so slightly. Spoke in a voice that was embarrassingly rough and said, “Alright, angel. Kong me. But if it squeaks, I’m divorcing you.”

“We aren’t even married yet,” Aziraphale scoffed, sliding off of Crowley and to her feet so she could finish taking her trousers the rest of the way off.

That quiet, automatic “yet” very nearly killed Crowley on the spot. She felt warm and happy and dizzy and loved, and as Aziraphale settled on the bed beside her, Crowley let her knees drop open and didn’t even care that the angel could see.

“Would you like to do the honors, my dear?” Aziraphale asked, holding up that blasted chew toy. “Or would you like me to?”

Initially, what Crowley wanted was to snatch it out of her hand and do it herself, to not let any part of Aziraphale’s body close to her genitals until she was sure they had latched on to the toy. But… Aziraphale had told her she wanted to touch her, to make love to her. Told her she wasn’t worried about getting bitten. She’d taken the first step, and now it was Crowley’s turn to be brave enough to trust her.

“You can,” she said.

“Should we…” Aziraphale said, casting an eye between the toy and Crowley’s bedside table, “Use lubricant?”

Crowley had a sudden, vivid mental image of her lower jaws trying and failing to latch on to a slippery Kong and, instead, shooting it out across the room like a bar of soap. In that imaginary scenario, it also bounced off the angel’s forehead with a loud, wet _kthok_ sound… which was incredibly funny, but probably a mood killer.

“Best not, at least to start,” Crowley said, shrugging. “Can always add some later if we think we need it.”

“Alright. Are you ready?” Aziraphale asked, and when Crowley nodded and shimmied her hips in answer, she pressed the cool, smooth side of the toy against Crowley’s body. It was… strange. No one had ever touched her there before, obviously, but even Crowley tried not to touch herself there.

The angel’s other hand reached up to pet at her mons, offering relaxing scratches to the shock of copper-bright hair there. It trailed up and down the backs of her thighs, squeezed at her backside, slid _just_ past the edge of her clit…

“Tease,” Crowley accused, but there was no heat in it. “I can, uh. I can feel it staring to move around in there.”

“Good,” Aziraphale said, brushing a fingertip over Crowley’s clit and then away again.

“Mind your fingers,” she mumbled, but it was on reflex. Aziraphale knew.

When her lower jaws emerged, they did so like they always did—all at once, terrifyingly fast, and with overwhelming force. Except this time, instead of crashing back into themselves with a slightly uncomfortable judder, the toy caught them. She felt her teeth pressing into the stiff rubber, not quite puncturing it, not quite sinking through.

“I think I grabbed it,” Crowley laughed, surprised and elated.

“I think you did,” Aziraphale said, giving the toy a test nudge. The teeth held firm. “How does it feel?”

There was just enough give to make it feel the slightest bit bouncy, but enough resistance to keep her from worrying about biting too deep and getting stuck. Better still, once her jaws bit down, they didn’t let go, biting and releasing in a quick rhythm that felt shockingly erotic for a body part she always thought was the opposite of sexy. There was also some delicious pressure on her entrance from the toy itself, as the jaws’ natural inclination was to try to draw whatever they bit inside of her. Normally she’d fear the potential for penetration and the discomfort that brought, but the toy was so wide that she didn’t have to worry about it being pulled in.

“Good,” she admitted, rolling her hips as Aziraphale brushed her clit again. “Really good. A lot better than expected. I take everything back, this was a good idea.”

“Now, I think you told me you wanted… What was it, again, love?” Aziraphale said, a look of smug bastardry on her face. “My mouth and my hands?”

“Please,” Crowley said, absolutely _not_ begging.

The feeling of Aziraphale’s hands on her, hot and sure and confident, was like electricity in her skin. Better still was the ability to lie back and let her touch, unafraid of what might happen if she closed her eyes and let herself drift in the sensation. The feeling of her own lower jaws fucking her with the toy, that firm and steady rhythm, was ratcheting up her pleasure degree by degree. The slow circles dragging around her clit, Aziraphale’s fingers made slippery with her own slick leaking from around her cunt, were melting her into the fucking mattress. Everything from her navel down felt hot and molten and tingly, and Crowley found herself shamelessly bucking up into the touch.

She was almost incoherent when she heard Aziraphale ask, “Do you mind if I touch them, love? Your lower jaws, I mean.”

Crowley didn’t even hesitate before she said, _“Please._ I want to—want to know what it feels like.”

Aziraphale knelt down and caressed both sides of Crowley’s lower jaws with gentle fingertips. “They’re very warm,” she said, “and very smooth. Does it feel good to be touched here?”

She didn’t know if she could describe the touch as sexually pleasurable, not like the squeezing motion the jaws were doing, but this kind of touch didn’t feel bad. The skin there was very thin, extremely sensitive, but it didn’t hurt. It felt like nothing else she could compare it to, like if someone were to reach inside her without causing any damage and asked what it felt like to have one of her internal organs lovingly stroked. These were… they were parts of her that hadn’t ever been meant to be touched, so the nerves didn’t know what to do. It was a vulnerable experience, and with anyone else, she would have been _terrified._ With Aziraphale, it felt unusual but… fine.

“They aren’t my secret, second clitoris or anything,” she managed, “but I don’t mind if you touch them.”

“Well,” Aziraphale said, “I think I can do a bit better than that.”

The angel bowed her head and began to lap at Crowley’s clit. Her tongue was soft and hot and wet and _mind-blowing,_ and Crowley couldn’t think anymore. Well, besides more low-bandwidth thoughts like, _“yes, yes, more, yes,”_ _“fuck,”_ _“so good, angel,”_ and _“love you.”_ Those thoughts didn’t have to stay echoing around the inside of her head this time, though. They were free to echo around the concrete walls of her bedroom, because at some point, she had apparently started yelling them.

When Crowley came, it was less like being shoved over her peak and more like falling slowly and knowing that, at the bottom, she’d be caught. It took almost a full minute for her jaws to let go of the toy, as with each shuddering tremor of her long afterglow, they bit down again. When at last she felt the jaws retract, she collapsed flat on her back and bid Aziraphale to climb on top of her with weak yet urgent hand flaps.

“You are,” she panted, kissing whatever parts of the angel’s face she could reach without much care for where they landed, “A fucking miracle, do you know that?”

“It’s funny,” Aziraphale purred, nipping a little at Crowley’s earlobe. “I could say the same thing about you, my love.”

“I never thought…” Crowley began, and then paused until she’d caught her breath. It definitely hadn’t had anything to do with the fact that she’d started to get choked up. “I didn’t think I’d ever be able to… to have sex. With you, specifically. Didn’t think we’d get any of this, really. But, uh. I didn’t ever think it was possible for me. To have sex with a person. At all. To enjoy it, to even… get the chance. I thought I just… couldn’t.”

Aziraphale rolled them over so Crowley was on top and squeezed her into a tight hug. “I’m so sorry, my love. For all the years we couldn’t be together. For all the years you felt like you were alone. I don’t ever want to let you feel like that again.”

Crowley bowed her head, resting her forehead on the angel’s sternum. “Thanks,” she said, biting her lip. “For not giving up on me.”

“I would never!” Aziraphale said, sounding affronted.

“No. But… I almost did.” She felt a kiss pressed into her temple. “I thought it was better to give up than look for a workaround. But you figured it out. You always do.”

When she looked up, Aziraphale was grinning. “Just you wait, love. I have more ideas than just the one.”

“Terrifying,” Crowley said, grinning back at her. “Arousing and terrifying. What’ll it be next time, one of the Bentley’s tires? A garden hose? I give you my full permission to experiment on me however you’d like, you mad, sexy genius.”

Aziraphale shot her an exasperated, fond look, then held up the toy to show her. There were two lines of shallow bite marks running up either side, but no signs of any serious damage. This thing looked it might be of service for a while yet.

“I thought that maybe next time, we could try adding vibrations,” she said, poking the tip of a finger inside the hole that ran through the chew toy. “If you have anything small, it could fit through here. Otherwise, we might try external stimulation from that rather massive one you showed me the other day.”

Crowley blinked, mouth falling slightly open. “I was right, you _were_ trying to bribe my snatch.”

“Is it working?” Aziraphale teased. “You told me you didn’t have taste buds, so I had to think of a good substitute for peanut butter.”

“You,” Crowley said, punctuating each word with a kiss, “Are impossible, and I hate you. I also love you.”

“I love you too,” Aziraphale said back, and _oh._ It still felt so good to hear it.

**Author's Note:**

> In case you don’t know what a Kong Extreme XXL chew toy looks like, it’s [this.](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/746927690224894032/775226881221722112/41ILQZreVgL.png) I refuse to apologize.
> 
> **HOW THIS FIC CAME ABOUT:** The title comes from Act 5, Scene 1 of Shakespeare’s “The Comedy of Errors,” and is literally about a guy chewing through the ropes to set himself free. You go, Crowley. Chew through your own insecurities with your powerful pussy teeth. Thanks go to [Liquid_Lyrium](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liquid_Lyrium/profile) for suggesting that bomb ass quote as a title. You’re my favorite state of matter, Liquid.  
> As for the content: Okay, so, there I was. It was November 7th, 2020, and I was riding high on the joy of watching Trump supporters cry on twitter after their favorite dictator lost. While I was there, I got smacked over the head with all the incredible LTFAF art on twitter this past week for the vagina dentata prompt, particularly [THIS](https://twitter.com/spicyzera/status/1325157221311766529?s=19) art by the talented @spicyzera that possessed me with the need to write soft and silly befanged pussy content. I spoke to her and she said she was cool with it if I wrote a ficlet based on it, but then it went off the rails and is no longer either a “ficlet” or even really similar in terms of content. Oops. It’s been a weird 48 hours. Sorry, Zera, but if you read this, I hope you still like it.  
> Also! [“Venus”](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25899583), an incredible fic by Entanglednow where Crowley has an Effort like a venus flytrap, has been living rent free in my head for months. In the aftermath of having my life forever changed by the plussy, I bothered Tangles with stupid comments of giving the plussy a Kong dog toy to squeeze.  
> Then, yesterday, I bothered my friends about the movie _Teeth_ about the exact same concept. I realized I just needed to go ahead and write the Kong fic already, so… here it is.
> 
> In addition to being silly, this fic is also kind of about what sex “means” and how you have to define that for yourself. Some people can’t/won’t/don’t enjoy penetrative sex, and there are a lot of messages out there that say that the sex they do have is lesser for that. Nah. Sex is whatever you want it to be, and no one gets to decide what that is besides you.  
> While the two are not connected at all in terms of plot, this fic also kind of feels like it’s the spiritual sequel to this other thing I wrote back in June, [“the patron saints of our blissful imperfections”](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24538981), my other monster fucker wives fic. That one is from Crowley’s POV as well, but deals with Aziraphale struggling with sex and feeling like she’s monstrous. If you liked this one, you might like that one, too.
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment or DM me on [tumblr](https://noodlefrog-omens.tumblr.com). I’m very chatty.


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